Warrior!
by LozzaBlueBell x
Summary: When Sherlock returns, he doesn't get the warm welcome he expected. Instead he gets a visit from John in a pub, and he sings to him. All is revealed within the song, but will it be the result he was hoping for? Johnlock. (Not good at summaries but I promise it's not soppy rubbish) XD


_**Scene: Warrior!**_

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John sat down at the piano on the small stage. Sherlock was surprised to see him there. John hadn't taken Sherlock's arrival well; he's gone to Baker Street, tried his hardest to explain that it wasn't his fault that he had to stage his suicide, but all he'd got for it was a punch in the face and the door slammed into his nose. Now, John was here... before a piano... about to sing?

John turned his head slowly away from the black piano before him – new, not his, obviously, but not the club's either – and turned to him. Their eyes met, John's steely, determined to not back down, and Sherlock's slightly wide with confusion and a little bit of worry.

John turned back to the piano, beads of sweat hanging from his sandy, blond hair; it was quite hot in the small, stuffy pub, but at least it wasn't one of those many stinky ones he'd had to crash in for days on end while he travelled round the world chasing after Moriarty's men. This bar was actually clean. Not the most popular – it was late at night also, so that helped – but quite fancy and loved.

John pressed his fingers down on the keyboard almost harshly. It wasn't relevant to the song and Sherlock could see how tense John looked. Was he trying to get out a message with this song? The audience furrowed their brows but they were too drunk to even register what it meant. They all probably thought that was the song. Idiots...

John started playing the piano and everyone slowly piped down. It was as if an imaginary spotlight had just planted itself a top of John's head and he was worried his words wouldn't come out past the lump in his throat.

Sherlock was surprised at how well John could play. John must've started playing when he'd been away. Wait... When he'd visited Mycroft that one time... He'd seemed tense. Mycroft, tense? He could hear the faint sound of a piano. Could that have been John? There had been no singing coming from the next room but the piano had sounded beautiful. This... was even more so. Professional, even.

A quiet track played behind John – violins... Was that a sign? The tears that glistened before his eyes, sending the scene before him blurry, was quite... frightening. He quickly rubbed them away before anyone saw. The song hadn't even started yet! But then...

"This is a story... that I have never told. I gotta get this off my chest and let it go..." Sherlock smiled slightly at the poetic words. They flew off the stage so swiftly and almost made him want to fly off his chair and into John's arms. If he would accept him, of course.

"I need to take back the light inside you stole. You're a criminal... and you steal like you're a pro." Sherlock tensed. Criminal? Stealing? Stealing what? He was no criminal!

"All the pain, and the truth... I wear like a battle wound. So ashamed, so confused, I was broken... and bruised." Sherlock frowned. This song was getting to him. Why?

"Now I'm a warrior! Now I've got thicker skin! I'm a warrior! I'm stronger than I've ever been. And my armour... is made of steel, you can't get in; I'm a warrior! And you can never hurt me again..." Hurt? John was hurt? What was all this about thicker skin and not getting back in? Not getting back into his life? Sherlock frowned further. And to know he'd hurt him so deeply... Why hadn't Mycroft told him? No... This was his own fault, not his brother's. It still hurt to know that though.

"Out of the ashes, I'm burning like a fire. You can save you're apologies; you're nothing but a liar." Liar? Guilt trickled into his body like he'd just turned to sponge and water had been poured onto him like acid.

"I've got shame, I've got scars, that I'll never show. I'm a survivor! In more ways than you know..." John turned to him briefly and Sherlock sank deeper into his seat. He didn't care about how amazing John's voice was, he cared about how he'd hurt John, how he wasn't getting him back ever again, and how he was feeling all these weird emotions by just listening to John sing this amazing song that he'd obviously wrote himself.

John sang through the chorus again, engraving it into Sherlock's skull, killing him from the inside out. How he'd hurt him with the truth. He noticed the slight change in the sentence from 'I _was_ broken and bruised' to 'I'm _not _broken or bruised'. He was painfully reminded again about how he'd hurt him and how he was not going to get back into John's life. How he'd turned John back to his old ways; how John didn't trust anyone any more, how John had eyes of steel again and how John had... moved on.

"There's a part of me I can't get back, a little boy grew up too fast. All it took was once, I'll never be the same." Sherlock wanted to just die there on the spot. He couldn't take this any more, yet he couldn't move from his little seat at the back of the bar either.

"Now I'm taking back my life today, nothing left that you can, cause you were never gonna take the blame anyway..."

He went through the chorus one more time, slowly and more quietly, more forcefully, growing louder, making his brain want to burst. Making him want to burst out of the bar crying or, better yet, into John's arms. But that wasn't an option any more. And it never would be again. He was an idiot himself for thinking that it could be a possibility, that he could still have John. He couldn't.

The music slowed. Ten seconds, nine, eight. John made eye contact. He noticed the tear tracks on his face, felt the same on his own.

"You can never hurt me... again."

A firm hand gripped his arm and pulled him up. Before John could move, Mycroft had pulled Sherlock up and slowly taken him out of the bar. John couldn't move. The mini, imaginary spotlight disappeared and it was if all the people in the room – some clapping, some staring, some laughing (though not _at_ him, thankfully) – had all just disappeared and all the lights in the room had just blown out. But then they came back on, full blast, and John slowly got up and walked off the stage.

When the cool breeze hit Sherlock's face, when he first got out of the bar, he was thankful. The cold wind highlighted the tear tracks on his face and he could almost guess where each one went exactly – every curve, every swirl, everything. He wanted to go back to John. John's song was only 99% true, possibly less. It was true he had built armour up to hide his feelings, just like he himself did, but what if the emotions underneath weren't of anger or sadness (though that was definitely there, as it was beneath his armour also) but of hope, of want, of... love. What if he could have John again?

Could he ever reach that love again?

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**The song used in this chapter was 'Warrior' by 'Demi Lovato' (not actually written by John – e.g. - me, lol, though I wish) and I advise you to listen to it because it's the second best track on her new album – for me, anyway. The first is 'Nightingale' which is truly amazing.**

**Also, I kind of imagine John slightly younger than Sherlock in my mind... I don't know why. I just always think John should be younger and it works better in this, right? I didn't mention age in case you were alright with his natural age but... not seen many guys like him sing like that though that would be awesome in the show... So, to me he's younger than Sherlock or they're both a few years younger. Not much! But you understand, right? Lol. I hope you enjoyed this little chapter anyway and please review. PLEASE! :D**


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